Love Hurts
by Story Please
Summary: Grawp knows that he is not supposed to go near Hogwarts Castle, but the temptation is simply too great. With the torchlight flickering ever so magically from the castle walls, he finds himself compelled to draw even closer than before. A strange sound hits him in more ways than one. Is it just a trick of the light or is there love in the air for Hagrid's mischievous half-brother?


Round 10: for QLFC

BEATER 2 for Pride of Portree

Forbidden Relationship for my position: An interspecies relationship.

My Prompts: (word) euphoria, (word) practically, (word) free

* * *

 **Love Hurts**

Grawp knew he was not allowed to come so close to Hogwarts castle, but there was a big difference between _knowing_ something and actually _doing_ what he was told. It was dark outside, and the lights were so pretty that they were practically like tiny stars. Grawp knew that no one would see him in the dark. He had been thinking about this night for well over a week. It was true that he thought very slowly due to his large size, but he was not stupid. Tiptoeing past his half-brother's hut, Grawp turned his massive head towards the castle. He grinned, a bit of drool leaking from the side of his mouth as he looked back. He'd merely jostled a couple of logs on the wood pile near Hagrid's door, which, all things considered, was quite the stealthy success.

The lights were close, now. A feeling of giddy euphoria began to fill his stomach, which made him want to giggle. He managed to hold himself back. A giggling giant was known to cause earthquake tremors, and he didn't wish to be discovered, not yet. The lights continued to beckon to him.

Grawp wanted to touch them. He rumbled with indecision.

It was a shame that, in the near-darkness, he did not realize which side of the castle he was approaching from.

A groan came from his left, and he'd only begun to turn his head when something large and painful connected with his cheek. Shouting with surprise, he dug his right foot into the ground with a massive THUD to keep himself upright. Uh-oh. That was going to leave a hole in the grass. Swinging up his boulder-sized fists to protect his face from another attack, he looked rather like a lumpy boxer in the crescent moon's meager light. Belatedly, he realized that something was tickling gently against his giant, pancake-like ears, but he couldn't figure for the life of him what it was.

The next attack came from above. He could hear the whistling air as something large and club-shaped flew towards his forehead with murderous intent. As a giant, Grawp was rather familiar with clubs. He had a nice collection of his own, actually. It was disappointing that no one ever seemed to want to see them, much less challenge him to a sporting game of Beat Each Other About The Head.

Still, it was rather unsporting to attack out of nowhere. Grawp's mind spun and whirred, great gears twisting in his head as he tried to form the words his half-brother had taught him to say.

" _No_ _hit_!" Grawp warbled slowly as his hand shot out and grabbed the bludgeoning instrument with a resounding slam.

The impact didn't hurt him much, but he grunted as he absorbed the shock of the blow. The club was strangely warm in his hand. He liked the feeling of it quite a lot, actually. It would be a good addition to his collection. Pulling and yanking against his invisible opponent, Grawp tried to pull the club away when another club smashed into his side, knocking the wind out of him.

A surprise attack could be somewhat expected, but Grawp found himself incensed upon realizing that he must be under attack by two unknown opponents instead of one. It reminded him of his painful memories of being bullied terribly by the bigger giants back in his homeland.

With a stuttering roar as he attempted to breathe normally once more, he stuck out his other arm, catching yet another club in his hand. A tiny part of his mind thought it strange that his attackers would be so silent, as an attacking giant rarely was, but the rest of his brain was focused on fighting for his life and did not particularly care about this detail.

A creaking groan echoed from the gloom that lay further ahead of his life-or-death struggle, but Grawp continued to pull until, with a mighty CRACK, the first club pulled free. A wooden scream erupted from his attacker, and he felt the second club recede away from his other hand with an abrupt jerk.

It was then that he realized belatedly that a light was coming down the hill. His instinct was to run away from it, as Hagrid had impressed upon him the dangers of being caught too close to the school. Before he could turn and run, the bright light caught against the darkness ahead of him, illuminating a giant tree, which turned and writhed in agony. Its long, leafy tendrils nearly reached the ground like greenish locks of hair.

It was _magnificent_.

There were voices, then: angry voices making angry sounds. Grawp ran, all attempts at subtlety abandoned. He was no longer thinking of the danger of discovery, though. The feeling of the warm wood against his palm filled him with heady thoughts. For the first time in forever, he felt completely free from any worries.

Grawp was in _love_.

* * *

The next day, Hagrid came to his little clearing in the woods with big angry words that Grawp mostly did not understand. He did, however, understand the way Hagrid's eyebrows went _down_ instead of _up_. He also noticed the angry booming noise that his half-brother's voice made instead of his normal happy rumbling.

He wanted to tell his half-brother how he'd found the love of his life, but when he picked up his new club and pointed to it with a wide grin, Hagrid had not understood. It just led to more angry booming. Eventually, Grawp's lips drooped and he attempted to look sorry. It seemed to soothe his half-brother, but his eyebrows were still pointed _down._

Grawp had trouble focusing on the angry words, though. All he could think about were those long, leafy tresses, the way those bludgeoning tips of wood soared through the air. Had he known, he wouldn't have ripped the club from such a magnificent beauty though he couldn't help but admit that he was a bit addicted to its scent. He waited until Hagrid had left before engaging in a bit of club-sniffing, though. Even a giant such as himself knew that it was a private activity.

It was then that he knew that he _had_ to see his beloved again.

No matter what anyone said.

* * *

The sun was dipping down behind the mountains when Grawp finally reached the treeline of the Forbidden Forest. He'd taken another route, one that had taken him through a bunch of bramble bushes, but it had been worth it. Peeking through the trees, he marveled at the radiance of his love in the light of sunset. Tendrils of willow leaves spun gently as though the tree were spinning in place. Grawp remembered, belatedly, what Hagrid had called this gorgeous creature.

"Wompy!" he cried, beside himself with joy as he extended his hand towards the tree.

The Whomping Willow stiffened as though it had heard Grawp's expression of joy, and it was only then that the giant noticed the rotund woman in a frumpy pointed hat standing at the base of the tree, rubbing some sort of oily salve into the stumpy branch that the tree had extended downward and was holding still like a child with a cut on his finger. She was stroking the wounded area with her fingers, rubbing the salve into it and nodding her head gently as it appeared to heal the abrasions where the wood had splintered.

Grawp felt a stab of guilt and hesitated. Watching the woman closely, he observed how she wrapped the injured stump with a white linen bandage before screwing the top onto the salve container and slowly walking back up towards the castle.

Grawp scanned the area and, upon seeing no one else, he slowly made his way towards the tree. It seemed to sense him, and it pulled back as though terrified he would pull more branches from its trunk.

"Wompy?" Grawp said softly. "Grawp... sorry."

As though to demonstrate his repentance, he stood within striking distance and held his arms out in a gesture of surrender. He would let the tree flail against his head with its whip like tendrils or smash against his body with its battering-ram branches. He would stand there and take each blow, if only to prove how sorry he was for hurting the one he loved.

The blows never came.

Instead, he felt the whispering sensation of long, leafy strands sliding across his face. They gently felt across the flat, uneven surface of his jaw and slipped down around his shoulders. He tensed momentarily when he thought that they might wrap around his neck and squeeze - that had been a popular pastime of his two least favorite bullies - but they were gentle and tender.

Walking slowly, his toes nearly digging furrows in the earth as he came closer and closer to the trunk of the tree, Grawp felt his pulse begin to quicken and his arms slowly closed around the base of the tree, which hugged him back with thousands of tendrils. They stood together, a giant and a sentient tree, in a loving embrace.

For a moment, everything was perfect.

"Grawp? Grawp!" Hagrid's voice was booming from back behind the treeline.

Grawp knew that his half-brother was looking for him to ensure he wasn't getting into trouble. A leafy tendril lifted up and placed itself against his lips as though kissing him goodbye as he stomped slowly back towards the Forbidden forest, looking back to see the tree waving at him in what appeared to be a rather sad manner.

Between the potential ire of the people in the castle and his half-brother's anger at disobeying directions again, Grawp knew he needed to keep his love a secret. Even so, he yearned to tell Hagrid about it.

As he hit the tree-line, he paused, turning back a final time. In the light of sunset, the candles that glowed from the windows in the castle were no longer as mesmerizing and beautiful as they had been the night before. For, as it danced gently in the sweet Autumn breeze, he knew for certain that he would never see a sight more lovely than the Whomping Willow.


End file.
